


Obsession

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Greg takes care of Mycroft, M/M, Sherlock Being a Good Brother, Sherlock Helps, Sherlock and Molly, Sick Mycroft, Sickfic, Worried greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-21 22:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12466952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: Mycroft ends up in the hospital in a critical condition. Greg immediately assumed that his doctor caused it, which turns out to be the truth. He and Sherlock tries to find out who persuaded him to hurt Mycroft. After finishing the case Greg has a harder task in front of him: taking care of Mycroft.





	1. Chapter 1

Greg was pacing on the corridor.  
"Why can't I see him?" he asked for the hundreds time.  
"Because they are working Greg."  
"I want to see him."  
"Please Greg." Molly pleaded. "They don't know what it is, not yet."  
"I got all the shots you could imagine. Mycroft drags me to the doctor regularly."  
"That's good, but please..."  
"Shots!" he took out his phone out. "Anthea! Wasn't he supposed to go for a trip next week?"  
"He is, you know it perfectly well." she answered the phone sleepily.  
"Did he get the shots?"  
"As always."  
"When?"  
"Yesterday. Can I go back to sleep now?"  
"He's in the hospital."  
"What?" Greg could hear that she jumped out of bed. "What happened?"  
"He had a fever, he was vomiting constantly and he became unresponsive."  
"Where?"  
"Bart's."  
"I'll be right there."  
"No, come to the station." Greg ran away without explaining anything to Molly. "Call me if something happens!" he yelled back to her.   
"It's me! Lestrade; yes. Listen carefully you have to go to the two address I texted you. The name is Dr. White bring him in."

Greg stepped to the interrogation room with papers in his hands; he was still in his pyjama. Donovan looked at him questioningly.   
"Boss? Are you all right? What is going on?"  
"I would like to ask the same question DI Lestrade." Dr. White spoke.  
"It's me who asks the questions here." he snapped. Greg could see that the doctor was anxiously drumming with his fingers.  
"I want my lawyer."  
"Unfortunately that's not possible."  
"What?" Donovan and the doctor asked simultaneously.  
"Sally please go to this address and get a suit from the wardrobe; the less fancy ones are mine." he handed her the key.  
"Boss, but he...the lawyer..."  
"NOW!" he yelled.  
"Okay." she slowly walked out.  
"What have you done to him?" Greg asked sternly.  
"I don't know what are you talking about."  
"You know it perfectly well. Yesterday he went to see you."  
"Who?"  
"Don't play the idiot. Who paid you?"  
"Pay me what? I have no idea what are you talking about. I don't get money from anyone. Why would I? I don't need it." Greg examined him carefully and took out his phone.  
"Anthea..."  
"No!" Dr. White jumped up.  
"Sit down, now!" Greg ordered him, he reluctantly obeyed.   
"Have the family brought in, everybody."  
"No, please don't. There's no need...please!" he whimpered; Greg left him.  
Anthea was waiting for him in his office.  
"Greg..."  
"What? Do you want an answer or not?"  
"I do, but..."  
"He didn't do it for money; I think he was black mailed with his family. Where are they?"  
"On their way."  
"We have to protect them, he might talk that way." he was pacing.  
"Okay. Now I need you to sit down."  
"Why?"  
"Please Greg." he reluctantly sat down. "It's bad; they had to put him on a respirator."  
"No!" he jumped up and headed for the door, but Anthea grabbed his arm and pushed him to the wall effortlessly. "Anthea let me go! Now! He...he..." he kept struggling.  
"Not until you calm down."  
"How could I calm down? I'm going to kill him."  
"No you won't. Greg please, it won't help him. Please." Greg finally stopped and sunk to the floor; Anthea knelt next to him.  
"I'll deal with him don't worry. He's already scared to death, I'll take him in and he'll sing. Now you go back to the hospital they want to check you too then home, eat, take a shower and go to sleep."  
Greg was taken to the hospital, he talked with the doctor but he wasn't allowed to see Mycroft. Molly managed to get him out of there before things got out of hand; after minutes of coaxing finally he got into the car and went home. He started with taking everything off the bed and loading it to the washing machine. He cleaned the bathroom and he was scrubbing the carpet furiously when he finally broke down. The brush fell out of his hands and buried his face to his hands as his tears flowed unstoppably; his whole body was shaking from the sobs.  
"Is it some kind of role play? I hope he won't come out naked from the bathroom." Sherlock ducked out of the way of the brush that Greg threw at him. He looked around the room more carefully. "What happened?" Greg didn't bother to answer to that. John appeared behind Sherlock.  
"Greg? What happened?" he immediately knelt next to Greg and placed a hand to his shoulder.  
"They fought and Greg's cleaning up the mess my brother made." Greg gave out a sound that made John grab him immediately. "Sherlock leave, now."  
"But..."  
"Go and unload the washing machine, you said it finished. Go, NOW!" Sherlock left reluctantly. "Greg what happened?" John asked softly, but Greg couldn't answer from the sobs.  
"They wouldn't let me see him." he said finally and leaned to John, who wrapped his arms around him. "I just want to see him...I want him back...I can't...I can't lose him..." he whispered between sobs.  
"How bad is it?"  
"He stopped breathing...They think it's meningitis or something; they are not sure...I don't know...I just want him back; now!" he was clutching John's coat.  
"They are doing everything they can to make him better. I can promise you that. He's strong, he can get through it. You can't see him now because it might be contagious..."  
"In that case I could already get it..."  
"They gave you antibiotics aren't they?"  
"Yes."  
"You don't have any symptoms..."  
"No."  
"They said to you to stay at home for the times being."  
"Yes."  
"Well then, you'll do exactly that."  
"But..."  
"They didn't let you see him for his sake too. They don't want him to catch something else too."  
"He didn't catch it; he gave it to him!" he yelled.  
"Who? What?" Sherlock came back.  
"Is it done Sherlock?"  
"Yes, and I put in the next batch in too."  
"Thank you."  
"Now talk, Lestrade!"  
"Your brother is in the hospital, his condition is critical." John answered instead of him  
"What happened?" he pulled Greg up.  
"His doctor made him sick; he went to him to get his shots but...Anthea's already talking to him. She said that she'll get everything out of him." Sherlock released Greg and walked out of the room.  
"You can't see him Sherlock, not now. No visitors allowed."  
"I'm his brother, I'm family."  
"Greg's family too, but it doesn't matter Sherlock. You can't see him now."  
"Then I go and see Anthea."  
"She said she'll come over when they finished." just as Greg said it Anthea yelled his name.  
"Coming." Greg walked down with the others at his heel.  
"You did nothing that I told you." he looked at him sternly. "To the kitchen, now."  
"But..."  
"I tell you while you eat. Sherlock you stay put. That's an order!"  
John helped Anthea put food into Greg.  
"Well, you were right Greg; he was blackmailed with his children. As soon as I assured him of their safety he sung like a bird. He doesn't know who the man was, they only communicated through notes and letters. He had to burn all of them; and yes he did burn them. We think it might have something to do with his upcoming trip, we are already looking into it, but we need you too Sherlock. It might be something else." Sherlock just nodded.  
"What did he do to him?" Greg whispered.  
"Some kind of biological weapon he made. He might get through it with medical help; we don't know...he won't say anything about it...yes Sherlock I was very persuasive; we couldn't find any notes either." Greg gave out a little whimper. "I'm sorry, we are still trying. Now Greg, you take a shower and go to bed."  
"No...I want to see him."  
"They still don't allow visitors. Please Greg, I promise I'll take you to him as soon as it's possible."  
"I'll stay and make sure that he rests." John said.  
"Thank you Dr. Watson. Are you coming Sherlock?"

John ushered Greg to the bathroom and he made the bed for him.  
"Thank you John."  
"Sure thing. Where are you going?" he asked when Greg walked out of the room, then soon appeared with a new set of pillows and duvet, and made the other side of the bed too.  
"Sorry." John whispered. "I'll wake you around noon; you have to eat and take the meds."  
"Thanks." he pulled the blanket over his head.


	2. Chapter 2

"Could you stop sulking, I need your help." Sherlock stepped to the bedroom; Greg was still lying in bed, just staring at the empty space next to him.   
"Whatever for?"  
"You are a policeman..."  
"And?" Sherlock pulled him out of bed, Greg landed on the floor with a great thud.   
"Get up, now! Do you want to find who did this to him?"  
"I want to kill them."  
"I might let you." Sherlock whispered.  
"Sherlock, it's not how things work." he rubbed his eyes.  
"You said..."  
"I know but I'm a policeman."  
"Then act like one."  
"All right." he got up. "What do you know so far?"  
"My brother knows how to choose his doctor. In his youth he made biological weapons and sold them, that's how he came to Mycroft's attention. They..." he fell silent.  
"They offered him a deal, work for them or die."  
"Yes."  
"I can't believe that I was seeing him!" he shrugged.  
"Mycroft knew everything about him and in return he kept his mouth shut."  
"Until now."  
"He had no files about Mycroft, not in paper nor in his computer. Someone must have seen him visiting him."  
"What do you need me for?"  
"I have to talk with the wife and children, the neighbours and I want to see the house and the surgery."  
"That's why you keep John."  
"He's working and Mycroft is your boyfriend. Also I need your face."  
"What?"  
"It makes people trust you; they'll be more willing to talk when you are around."  
"You didn't trust me."  
"My brother did immediately and he only trusts a few...it made me suspicious."  
"I knew you just pretend not to care about him."  
"Shut up ad get ready."

 

"Mrs. White my name is DI Lestrade and this is Sherlock Holmes, we are here to talk about your husband."  
"Where is he? What is going on? No one is telling me anything."  
"I'm sorry you can't see your husband right now. This matter has to be handled carefully because of his past."  
"What past?"  
"It's classified."  
"Military?"  
"I really can't say more Ma'am."  
"I see."  
"You are safe here. I would like to ask you if you saw a stranger around the house, anyone stopping you in the streets, leaving letters...?" she shook her head.  
"No, nothing."  
"Think!" Sherlock snapped; she started to cry. Greg shot a look at him so Sherlock left them.  
"I'm sorry about that. Are you sure?"  
"Yes, I am." she wiped down her tears. "No strange letter, just the bills, a postcard from my sister but nothing more."  
"I see. New neighbours?"  
"No."  
"Someone new in the surgery?"  
"No, Martha has been working with Dave for decades." Greg heard one of the girls scream. They hurried to the next room.  
"Sherlock?"  
"What? I..."  
"Seriously you have a daughter but you still..."  
"She is not mine!" he cut him off.  
"All right, now go with Mrs. White and ask your questions, nicely!"  
"Fine." Greg knelt down to the girls.  
"Hello my name is Greg, what's yours?"  
"Anna and she is Meg."  
"Nice to meet you. How nice bear you have, does it have a name?"  
"Francis."  
"My niece has one like this."  
"Doubt it, because Francis is special."  
"Sure he is. They might be relatives though." she chuckled. "Tell me Anna, have you seen any strangers around home, maybe when you played in the garden?"  
"No."  
"Anyone talking to you in day care?"  
"Nope."  
"Okay, thanks." Greg stood up.  
"You should ask Peter too."  
"Who?"  
"Peter, dad's friend. He gave me Francis."  
"Could you describe to someone how he looks like?"  
"Why?"  
"We’ll draw a picture of him, it'll help us find him quicker, so we can talk with him."  
"Okay."  
"Thank you." Greg quickly called Anthea.  
"Send someone over who can draw, one of the girls saw someone. Also ask him if he knows a Peter, probably not his real name, but still."  
"I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"He's dead."  
"What? How?"  
"Autopsy still in progress, I checked the cameras but there was nothing on it. No one unauthorised visited him, I don't know if it was in the food or he took something before we brought him in..."  
"Send the drawer Anthea, we'll be there soon." he went to the next room. "Sherlock we have to leave now. Thank you for your help Mrs. White, someone will come over to draw a picture of someone Anna saw. Goodbye." he hurried out, Sherlock ran after him.

"The doctor died." Greg said when they got back to the car.  
"Good."  
"Peter, ring a bell?"  
"No, I'll think about it. I'm not gay."  
"Okay."  
"John's not either."  
"I said okay."  
"Just because we live..."  
"Sherlock you spend a lots of your time with her, you take her to the crime scenes to the lab, everywhere...you do act like her father."  
"John's working, I just want to help."  
"I know, now think!" he remained silent during the ride.  
"He killed himself." Anthea greeted them.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes, you can go and see it yourself Sherlock."  
"No need, I believe you. What now?"  
"We wait for the picture."  
"And what else?"  
"You wanted to check the house and the surgery Sherlock. Let's eat something and..."  
"No time we have to go now."  
"Fine." Greg followed him.

Greg was walking up and down in the garden because Sherlock sent him out when his phone rang.  
"They died."  
"What?"  
"Our man found them, all four of them."  
"Who survived?"  
"No one."  
"Anthea there were the Mrs., the two girls and two guards."  
"Oh...yes, idiot me. I'll call you back." Greg went in to talk to Sherlock, but he wouldn't listen to him so he left.  
"The youngest girl, we found her closed to the cupboard; alive. I take her back to the office."  
"On my way." Greg put on the lights and rushed through the city. He had to stop because a fire engine closed down the road; he looked around with frustration trying to figure which way to go when he spotted the bear in a shop window.  
"The bear!" he immediately dialled Anthea.  
"A stuffed bear."  
"She has one."  
"Take it from her."  
"What?"  
"I think it has a GPS in it!"  
"How am I going to take it from a two years old in shock?"  
"Tell her that Francis needs to be checked by the doctors, have her looked at too. She'll get him back soon. I'm buying a new one for her. Be there soon."

Greg walked to Anthea's office; she was sitting with Meg in her lap. "Help me!" she whispered when Greg came in. He knelt down so Meg could see him.  
"Hello, remember me. I'm Greg. I brought someone back to you." he placed the bear to her hands. "The doctor said that he is fine and he had a quick bath too." she hugged the bear tightly. "Meg dear have you seen Peter today?" she nodded. "After we left?" she nodded again. "Thank you my dear." she buried her face to Anthea's shirt.  
"Greg." she whispered. "What should I do with her now?" Greg rolled his eyes and took Meg from her, rocking her humming songs to her. "There was a GPS and a microphone in it too. As far as we know the girls spent lots of time in the surgery. I already called Martha to come and take her."  
"But why leave the bear there, why let her live?"  
"I don't know." Someone came in with a file. "We found him." she informed Greg.  
"Good."  
"Will you come?"  
"Yes."  
"Where is Sherlock?"  
"I left him in the doctor’s house; he was too occupied with whatever he was doing."  
"Good, not a word to him."  
"Why?"  
"I want him alive, same goes to you!" she looked at her phone. "We have to go, now!"  
"What about her?"  
"Give her to someone, just hurry." Greg quickly found someone who would watch over her. Anthe yelled his name again.  
"Sorry."  
"This is the blueprint of the house. As far as we know he lives alone. I have no idea why he targeted Mycroft, so I say it again; we need him alive."  
"I know, it's not me you need to worry about."  
"I hope he didn't figure it out."  
"Pray and hope." they sat in silence for the remainder of the drive.

"You are coming in?" Greg asked with disbelief, Anthea looked at him with a look so familiar for Greg that he got lost in his thought for a second.  
"Concentrate Greg."  
"Yes, sorry." they found Sherlock in the kitchen with a gun standing over a body.  
"Sherlock!"  
"He shot me."  
"What?" Greg hurried to him. "Where?" his left shirtsleeve was soaked in blood.   
"What did he tell you? Who is he? Why did he do it?" Anthea kept repeating the questions.  
"He did it."  
"But why?"  
"Because of him." he pointed at Greg.  
"What? I don't even know him? Have I arrested him or some family member?"  
"They dated." silence fell.  
"I did not!"  
"My brother."  
"Oh...I didn't know."  
"Me neither. It was ages ago, when Mycroft was in uni."  
"But why now?"  
"His mother died, no one was here to make sure that he took his meds. He was obsessed with my brother; you should see his room too." Sherlock pointed at the papers on the table.  
"Okay you've got to go now Sherlock; let them take care of you." they read through the papers. According to them Peter was in and out of mental facilities since he was 22; Mycroft's name kept coming up in the files.   
"Good." Anthea collected them after they finished with it.  
"Good?" Greg asked with disbelief.   
"Yes Greg, it's not work related; it's over. He's dead...it's over."  
"But..."  
"It's over. Go home Greg, you need to rest."  
"But..."  
"His mother died, he fell apart. He saw the two of you somewhere and decided if he can't have Mycroft then no one should...Please go home." Greg didn't move, so Anthea grabbed his arm and dragged him to the car. "I finish here and I'll go over. I want to find you in bed, sleeping; understood?" Greg nodded. "Thank you. It's over Greg, he can't hurt him anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

Greg was standing by the door looking at Mycroft helplessly as he was dragged to the bed, screaming. He got a call that Mycroft woke up, he arrived just in time to see him standing in the corner throwing everything he could at the nurses and doctors. Greg tired to talk to him, tried to calm him but he wasn't listening; he didn't even recognised him. Mycroft wouldn't stop screaming, the restrains were put on him and he was given something to calm down, but still he kept screaming. He looked around the room his eyes filled with terror finally stopping on Greg, he looked at him pleadingly. "Help me!" he whispered. "Please help me!" Greg wanted to but there was nothing he could do. Slowly Mycroft fell silent, Greg could see that he was fighting against the restrains and the drug, but finally he stopped.  
Greg kept coming back his heart shattering with every visit. Mycroft still didn't recognise him, he looked even worse than before and it just got worse day by day. He had dark circles around his eyes, he lost even more of his weight, his wrists and ankles were wounded as he constantly tried to get out of the restrains. Greg could do nothing just sit by his bed listening to his screams and pleads, his whining or he was too drugged to realise what was happening around him.

After a week of suffering Greg walked into the room to hear his name being yelled.  
"Mycroft!" he hurried to the bed.  
"Gregory, please, please."  
"I'm here love, you are safe.  
"NO! They...don't let them come close to me. Please."  
"Mycroft, they are here to help you..."  
"NO! Don't touch me!" the nurses wanted to bathe him but Mycroft kept screaming and struggling.  
"I'll do it." he turned to them.  
"I don't think...” one of them started but the other cut her off. “Do you know how?"  
"I took care of my mother, I know. Can you get the restrains off?" she gave him the key, Greg took them off. "Can I have clean bandages too?" when he saw the state of Mycroft's wrists and ankles.  
"They are over there." she pointed at the table.  
"Thank you." he turned back to Mycroft. "Now love time for a bath. Don't worry it's just me; no one else." He undressed Mycroft and gently washed him off. Mycroft was skin and bone, he was laying on his back for too long, it already started to show. Greg dried him; he applied the cream to his back, dressed him and changed the linen too. Then he turned his attention to his wrists and ankles and changed the bandages too. Mycroft kept his eyes on him the whole time, watching him pleadingly.  
"I want to go home." he whispered when Greg finished.  
"I don't know if they would..."  
"I want to go home Gregory, please." he whispered again. Greg sighed and took out his phone. He sat next to him on the bed stroking his hair; Mycroft wrapped his arms around his leg, tightly holding onto him.  
His eyes shot to the door when it opened. "NO! Gregory, please don't let them...I don't want to! Please. Please! I don't want this, not anymore...please!" his tears were falling.  
"I want to take him home!" Greg announced as they entered. "Call his doctor here; now, please." the nurse went to fetch the doctor, he came in clearly irritated.  
"What now?"  
"I want to take him home."  
"He's not well enough, I can't allow it."  
"He wants to go home; I want to take him home."  
"He's not in a state to make decisions..."  
"But I can, you have the papers." John came in looking around questioningly. "John, thank you for coming. Could you look through Mycroft's papers and tell me if he's well enough to be taken home? Please."  
"I'm not his doctor."  
"I don't care; he wouldn't let me take him home."  
"I'm sure he has a reason for that Greg."  
"He won't get better staying here; he looks worse day by day. He is terrified of everything and everybody, it'll be better for him at home. I can look after him, I can stay home for more than a month; I collected enough days. Please John."  
"I have to say that I don't approve it. We can't make him eat, drink..."  
"I'm thirsty." Mycroft whispered.  
"See!" they just stood there staring at Greg and Mycroft. Finally John left to see the papers. "Well, there are no abnormalities on the scans, his kidneys and liver are working well again, same goes to the bone marrow...no neurological symptoms. The main concerns are his behaviour and that fact that he's not eating or drinking at all and that he's not sleeping. He's too weak Greg..."  
"So I can take him home."  
"I'm not his doctor..."  
"I'm taking him now! Come on love." he tried to get Mycroft's arms off his leg. "We are going home."  
"I need your signature in some papers."  
"I know. Get them ready, I'll dress him till that." the doctor left them.  
"Need help?" John asked.  
"No, thank you. Oh wait, could you bring some water for him."  
"Sure." once Mycroft understood that he was going home, he was more than willing to let Greg dress him.  
"Water My, you said you're thirsty." Greg held the glass to his mouth, Mycroft drunk it eagerly. "Slowly, slowly Mycroft."  
"More."  
"A bit later." Greg stroked his face. "John will stay with you until I get the papers settled. He'll make sure that no one hurts you; promise."  
"I promise Mycroft." John said. He just nodded and eyed John with uncertainty; Greg quickly came back. "Done, we'll have to come back, so they can check on you."  
"But..."  
"You won't have to stay My, I'll be with you at all time, don't worry. Now, let's go home. Thank you John."  
"I'll go over tomorrow afternoon to check on him; call me if you need help; please Greg."  
"Thank you." Mycroft was too weak to stand but Greg managed to get him to the car on his own, after all Mycroft weighted almost nothing.

"Mycroft, My." he carefully shook him. "We are home!"  
"Home."  
"Yes love, now to bed with you." Greg put him to bed and made sure that he wasn't laying on his back. "Sleep well." he kissed his temple.  
"Stay, please."  
"Okay." he sat with Mycroft stroking his hair until he fell asleep again. Greg called Anthea afterwards.  
"I brought him home."  
"You did what?"  
"He wanted to come home, so I took him."  
"Greg..."  
"He recognised me Anthea."  
"Greg please..." she repeated wearily.  
"I don't care. I know how to take care of him. You saw the sate he was in, it'll be better for him at home."  
"Need any help?"  
"Could you fetch a few things?"  
"Sure, text me the list."  
"Thank you Anthea."  
"I would like to ask you Greg that if you need help at any time with anything; call me. Please Greg. Don't suffer on your own because of your pride, please; for his sake."  
"Okay."  
"Thank you. I'll be there soon."

Anthea opened the door.  
"I'm here!" he placed the bags to the kitchen table.  
"Thank you."  
"How's he?"  
"Sleeping, I didn't have to give him anything for it, he’s drinking..."  
"That's good Greg."  
"You don't think that I can do this."  
"I know you can; I'm just worried what if tomorrow he'll wake up not knowing where he is, who he is."  
"I'll look after him anyways."  
"Of course you will...Call me if you need help."  
"I will, thank you."

 

"Morning love." Greg kissed his cheek.  
"What was that?"  
"A morning kiss." Mycroft slowly brought his hands to his face.  
"Oh..." he ran his fingers through his beard  
"I have to say it suits you; very sexy." Greg smiled at him.  
"Is it?"  
"Yes." Greg leaned down and kissed him.  
"It's not our room." Mycroft looked around.  
"It's the small room in the end of the corridor."  
"I know that."  
"The bathroom is closer, the furniture is also closer, you'll be able to lean on them so it'll be easier for you in the beginning. The bed is smaller; it's easier for me to change it, easier to reach you from each side."  
"I see. Thank you Gregory."  
"Any time love." he kissed his forehead. Greg started to check him always telling him what he was doing. Mycroft remained silent during the whole procedure. Greg took his blood pressure, temperature, changed the bandages and gave him his medications. "Come on." he pulled Mycroft up, he gave out a little whimper. "You can choose this or diaper?"  
"I'll get up, I'll get up!" he grabbed Greg's pullover holding onto him tightly.  
"Good." Greg smiled.

"How do you feel?" he asked when Mycroft was back in bed again.  
"A thousand times better. My head still aches, I'm weak..."  
"Nausea?"  
"No."  
"Good, then today we can try a little broth. See if you can stomach that."  
"Okay."  
Greg applied the cream to his back, before he tucked him in.  
"You shouldn't sleep on your back, I'll make sure that you turn to your side if needed; also change the sides I don't want your bedsores to get worse."  
"I have what?" he asked with horror in his voice turning his head, trying to see his back.  
"It's not that bad, don't worry. You were tied to a bed for weeks after all."  
"Quite literally. You never told me about your mother."  
"You knew that she died."  
"Yes, but I didn't know how."  
"Cancer, I took her home, I looked after her until the end." he trailed off.  
"I'm sorry." Greg just stroked his face.  
"Rest now, I'll come back later."  
Greg woke him around lunch. "Now, you'll sit up." he helped Mycroft to sit supported by the pillows. "Good."  
"Is it?" Mycroft asked ironically.  
"Yes love. Now lunch."  
"I can do it."  
"I don't think so."  
"It's just a spoon Gregory." Greg just sighed and gave the spoon to him. Mycroft had to give up after his hand kept shaking and the soup ended everywhere but in his mouth. He dropped it with a frustrated whine.  
"It's okay My, you'll get stronger. I promise."  
"It's just a spoon." he whispered looking at Greg miserably.  
"Don't look like that My, it's okay; you just need time. Let me help you, now." Mycroft closed his mouth and shook his head. "Love, you have to eat, remember." Mycroft nodded. "Well then...Mycroft please....Please. John will come over in the afternoon, what will I tell to him?...What if I put it into a mug and I help you hold it?" Mycroft nodded. Greg came back with the mug. "You know that you'll have to let me help, you won't be able to drink mashed potato...There's no shame in it Mycroft, I know it's hard to accept it, but I can assure you it’s perfectly all right." Mycroft finished his lunch. "So will you let me help?"  
"Yes."  
"Thank you. Now you just sit here for a bit longer; want to listen to the radio or just music?"  
"No thank you. Would you read to me?"  
"Sure, I'll be right back." Greg read for Mycroft, he saw that he tired out, he was about to put him back to bed when John arrived.  
"Dr. Watson, how kind of you to visit us." he greeted him with a cold smile.  
"Mycroft, not now." Greg scolded him, Mycroft just smiled at Greg.  
"I see he is feeling better."  
"He is. Stubborn as always; but I can make him drink, I can get him out of bed; he's been sitting for a while now. I was just about to put him back to bed."  
"Then I'll be quick." John examined Mycroft carefully. "Okay, I'll come back tomorrow, call me if something happens."  
"Thank you." Greg helped Mycroft to lay back.  
"Dr. Watson." he whispered.  
"Yes?"  
"Thank you."  
"I'm not so sure he's all right." John said to Greg when they left the room.  
"Why?" he asked worriedly.  
"He thanked me."  
"Oh..." Greg sighed with relief. "Don't do this John, please."  
"Sorry. He is fine as far as I can tell. Call me if you need help with anything."  
"Can you persuade Sherlock to come and visit him?"  
"I'm not a miracle worker Greg, but I'll try."


	4. Chapter 4

Greg opened the door, trying to wipe down his tears before it.  
"What happened?" John asked worriedly.  
"He's not listening to me; all he does is crying...He's been crying since morning. I can't make him stop, I can't make him eat...I...I can't..."  
"I talk to him." Greg's head shot up just realising that Sherlock was there too.  
"You can try."  
Sherlock walked up to the room; he stopped at the door looking at Mycroft. He was sitting on the bed supported by pillows, his face buried to his hands.  
"Are you come to gloat brother mine?"  
"No, I'm here to see you. Greg's downstairs with John crying his eyes out. What have you done to him?" Mycroft didn't answer; Sherlock sat next to him and took his hands.  
"What's wrong Mycroft?"  
"It's so humiliating." he whispered not looking at him.  
"So you rather be in the hospital surrounded by strangers letting them touch you, feed you, let the students practice on you?"  
"No."  
"Greg could have left you there but he brought you home so he can make sure that you get better; let him do it. He knows what to do, he can help."  
"But..."  
"No buts brother mine. Now you have to eat." he took the plate, Mycroft shook his head.  
"You won't get stronger if you refuse to eat. You'll end up in the hospital again; that's what you want?" Mycroft shook his head again. "Then eat." Sherlock raised the spoon. "You fed me before."  
"When you were a baby."  
"Not only." he let Mycroft think a bit. "I hope you won't spit it on me, like I did."  
"I'm not a child Sherlock."  
"Me neither." Mycroft just chuckled.  
"Sure brother mine." Mycroft finished his lunch without further resistance. Sherlock put the plate down and turned back to him, Mycroft's tears started to fell again.  
"What now? Mycroft? What's wrong? Please tell me, anything hurts? What is it?" he asked with panic.  
"He's just tired." Greg sat next to Mycroft and hugged him tightly. "It's okay love, it's okay. I'm here, we are here." Mycroft mumbled something. "I know love...Shhh, shhh. Sleep now, I'll stay don't worry." they sat with Mycroft until he fell asleep.  
"Thank you Sherlock." he whispered.  
"Any time. He promised he'll let you help."  
"Yeah, he promised it to me too."  
"He's stubborn."  
"I know that." he sighed. "Hungry?"  
"Hmmm, okay. Have you told him what happened?"  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
"Because he didn't ask it."

 

Greg helped Mycroft out of the car.  
"Everything all right My?"  
"Yes Gregory." Mycroft was leaning on his umbrella and Greg. Together they managed to walk to the ward.  
"Now you sit down and I..."  
"No!"  
"Mycroft."  
"NO!"  
"Okay."  
"Morning, we have an appointment."  
"Name?"  
"Mycroft Holmes." The nurse looked up. "Wow, I didn't even recognise you."  
"Thank you." Mycroft answered hesitantly. They settled the papers, Mycroft was questioned and his blood was taken.  
"The doctor will be here shortly." the nurse said they sat down on the corridor. Mycroft leaned to Greg, who wrapped his arms around him.  
"Tired?"  
"A bit."  
"We can go home soon; don't worry." Mycroft drifted off.  
"Shortly? They said he'll be here shortly." he woke up.  
"I'm sure he'll be here soon."  
"Do you have my phone?"  
"Yes, what do you want with it?"  
"Play."  
"Play?"  
"Yes, I'm bored."  
"Do you have games on your phone?"  
"Yes Gregory."  
"What game?"  
"You play a paparazzi in it; you get points depending on how good your pictures are."  
"So it's work."  
"No...please." he looked at him pleadingly.  
"You know that I can never say no when you look at me like that love." Greg handed him it with a sigh; Mycroft was on his phone for hours.  
"Gregory."  
"Yes?"  
"I'm hungry, thirsty and I need to go the bathroom."  
"Me too."  
"We can go; I don't think he'll be here soon."  
"Okay."

By the time they got back the doctor arrived too.  
"I don't have time to wait for you all day long." he started.  
"Good day to you too doctor." Mycroft said coldly. Greg looked at him and saw the iceman; he smiled inwardly. "How was lunch?"  
"I haven't had time for it. Sit!" Mycroft didn't move.  
"Have your secretary found your bed comfortable?" the doctor stepped closer so Greg quickly stepped between them.  
"How dare you!" Mycroft held up his phone. It was a picture of the doctor and his secretary walking on the street, than having lunch, stopping in front of the doctor's house and more.  
"How did you...?"  
"I don't know what you were expecting; you kept me waiting, I got bored."  
"You have no right to do that!"  
"Oh...I have." he smiled coldly. "Shell I send it to your wife?"  
"What do you want from me?"  
"To do your job." Mycroft sat down. The doctor was pale and shaking slightly but he started to examine Mycroft.

"Playing?" Greg asked when they got back to the car.  
"I was telling the truth Gregory. It was really nothing accessing the cameras from my phone, finding him was even easier."  
"Love." he shook his head.  
"What? He was out with his mistress during work hours, then he came back and yelled with everyone for not doing his job."   
"I love you, you.....you..." Mycroft kissed him.  
"I love you too. I have another picture that might interest you." he gave his phone to Greg.  
"Are you kidding with me? When? Where?"  
"Hospital cafeteria, when you left me at the table. They didn't see me."  
"Sherlock and Molly...Sherlock and Molly..." he kept muttering on the way back.  
"Sherlock is here." Mycroft announced as Greg parked the car in the garage.  
"Will he stay for dinner?"  
"I don't know."  
"You don't know?" he chuckled.  
"It's my brother we are talking about, if you haven't forgotten."  
Sherlock was lying on the sofa deep in thoughts when they came in.  
"Move aside brother mine." Mycroft dropped to the sofa.  
"Where were you?"  
"To see the doctor."  
"You look tired."  
"You don't say." Mycroft muttered.  
"All right you two, behave; I'll make dinner. Will you stay?"  
"Yeah."  
"So, what are you up to brother mine?" Mycroft asked when they remained alone.  
"Not much just finished a case."  
"Not bored?"  
"Not yet."  
"I saw you today. Are you playing with her?"  
"Are you asking if we are having sex?"  
"No, Sherlock. Are you really like her or you're just using her. Because if the second, I'd like to ask you to stop with it. She doesn't deserve that."  
"Sentiment."  
"I'm still not well brother mine." he smiled wearily.  
"I like her." he whispered. "She is a bit slow; but still I like her. Was it the same with you and Lestrade?"  
"Yes." they sat in silence for a while, Mycroft almost fell asleep, when Sherlock shook him.  
"Dinner is ready My."  
"What?"  
"Lestrade said that dinner is ready."  
"Will you help me?" he asked weakly.  
"Of course." he pulled him up. "Are you sure you can manage?" he had to tighten his grip on Mycroft so he won't fell.  
"I have to eat; Gregory will worry if I don't."  
"We can eat here." Sherlock lowered him back to the sofa.  
"What's wrong love?" Greg came in with the plates; he looked him up and down worriedly.  
"Just tired my dear."  
"Quick dinner and then bed. So Sherlock..."  
"Not you too."  
"She's a good girl, don't play with her. She doesn't deserve that."  
"You two are perfect for each other." he rolled his eyes.  
"Don't change the subject Sherlock. She's been in love with you for ages."  
"Now, I know that."  
"I hope it's not some kind of experiment; you trying out what is it to live with a women, or..."  
"I like her; I want to try it with her."  
"Try what?"  
"Having a proper relationship."  
"Good. I'm watching you; just you know."  
Greg turned to the sound of a plate clattering on the floor.  
"Oh, love. Come on; you had enough for today." he tried to pull the half asleep Mycroft up. "Sherlock, little help." together they managed to get him upstairs.  
"Now you can sleep My."  
"I want to take a bath."  
"In the morning."  
"No; now...please." he whined.  
"All right." Greg sighed.  
"Stay." he turned to Sherlock.  
Mycroft was finally in bed, his eyes closed as soon as his head touched the pillow. They wanted to leave him alone, but Mycroft grabbed Sherlock's wrist.  
"Stay, please." he whispered. Sherlock reluctantly sat down, Greg left to clean up the kitchen.  
"You started seeing her after Sherrinford." he mumbled.  
"You knew?"  
"Of course, I just didn't know what you wanted with her; why you did it. I didn't know what to expect from the either of you."  
"Why?"  
"Eurus forced you to make her confess, you broke the coffin afterwards, then you started to date her after ignoring her love for ages."  
"I didn't see it. I could see that John was in love with Mary, I saw it with you and Lestrade, I can see it with everybody else, but not her. I missed it."  
"Not only that."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I love you Sherlock, more than anything." he whispered.  
"Mycroft..."  
"More than Gregory; he knows that...I love you." Sherlock remained silent for awhile, then he stroked Mycroft's face; he smiled. Sherlock tried to stand up, but Mycroft's hold tightened on his wrist, Sherlock waited and when Mycroft fell asleep he tried again; but still couldn't get up. He sighed and lied next to him. Greg came in and saw them sleeping Sherlock awkwardly curled upon the edge of the bed, Mycroft smiling in his sleep, his arms wrapped around his brother. He smiled and left them.

By the time Greg woke up Sherlock disappeared.  
"Morning love." he sat next to Mycroft who still had a soft smile on his face.  
"Morning Gregory. I missed him."  
"I know My."  
"Once I get better we'll go back to ignoring each other."  
"You don't know that."  
"I know it; but it's okay." he sat up. "Could you bring up my phone, I think I left it in my coat pocket."  
"Sure thing."  
Mycroft was sitting on the side of the bed, still smiling waiting for Greg.  
"Here it is." Greg came back; Mycroft looked at him and suddenly turned white. Greg hurried to the bed when he saw the state Mycroft was in.  
"Are you all right?" he sat next to him.  
"You...you found it." he turned his eyes away and muttered.  
"Sorry, it was in your pocket."  
"I wanted to ask you in the weekend; I planned to stay home; cook for you and...But he ruined it." Greg pulled him to a hug.  
"Mycroft..." Mycroft hugged back and buried his face to his shirt.  
"I love you Gregory, I don't want to lose you...I'm so glad it wasn't you who got hurt."  
"Love..."  
"I don't know what I would do without you."  
"Me neither, I was sitting by your bed begging you not to leave me. I was really scared when you didn't recognise me. I thought you were gone...I don't know what I would do then...I mean; I know I wouldn't abandoned you; never, never..." he trailed off.  
"Thank you for bringing me home." Greg kissed his temple. "Gregory?"  
"Yes love?"  
"What do you say then?" Greg laughed. "You don't want to." Mycroft turned pale again.  
"No, no no My. I do want to marry you. I do. I love you; I love you and I do want to marry you. Just..."  
"You know that I'm not good in this romance thing."  
"You are love; don't deny it, I know you well." he kissed him. "I planned to ask it myself when you got better; fortunately I haven't bought the rings yet." Mycroft smiled back at him.  
"Sorry."  
"It's okay My; come on let's have breakfast. You have to get better soon because I want a spring wedding."  
"Yes boss." Mycroft stood up with a smile.


End file.
